


Nothing But Vultures

by TheFantabulousPandemonium



Series: (Got Me Where) You Want Me [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scars, Sexual Coercion, The author is a terrible person who regrets nothing, somewhat canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 09:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFantabulousPandemonium/pseuds/TheFantabulousPandemonium
Summary: Gellert would have liked to call himself a simple man. Would have liked to, but few wizards found themselves able to keep up with him outside of Albus and he wasn't one for understating himself."I'll take care of Mr. Scamander."The President would thank him, in the end.





	Nothing But Vultures

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally watched the movie and somehow dived straight into one of the Worst™ ships possible, not sure how I feel about the proposed sequels though.
> 
>  _"I bid you welcome, my guest,_  
>  _I have something to get off my chest -_  
>  _I am a fan to some degree of curiosities."_  
>  ~Dem Bones - Creature Feature

Gellert would have liked to call himself a simple man. Would have liked to, but few wizards found themselves able to keep up with him outside of Albus and he wasn't one for understating himself.

He'd been tracking the obscurial for months now, something a lesser magical would be hard-pressed to do even with the outright destruction it was causing, while playing as the Director of Magical Security and dismantling MACUSA from the inside. And? He was honestly having a bit of fun doing it.

America was far removed from Europe's little quirks and outdated laws, easy enough to slip through with a mixture of polyjuice and some well-placed spellwork. And it had been getting just a little bit boring when the auror he'd demoted some time ago came barging in on a meeting between department heads, with a guest.

The man couldn't have been more than thirty, with copper hair and an uncomfortable look on his face. Prewitt blood in him, if Gellert had to guess, or Fawley. His features were delicate enough to be pureblood and his coat was in a traditional cut for pseudo-muggle styled robes back in Europe.

He dismissed himself easily, the President nodding after him. After all, it was technically his department to look into such matters.

In the dim light of the Wand Permit Office, the man seemed even more nervous than he'd been in front of everyone. Gellert kept his expression neutral, Abernathy's rather gleeful expression a stark contrast. He was introduced as a Scamander - he'd been right with the Fawley, their second daughter had married a muggleborn with that name - with a horde of dangerous creatures in his suitcase.

That was the most interesting phrase he'd heard all week.

Of course, the world had to disappoint Gellert after that. Pastries, relatively fresh, were all that came out of the case. Abernathy helped himself to a couple. Grindelwald dismissed all of them, heading to his office with sharp, quick steps. He caught the Scamander's eyes when he turned to face outward in the elevator, but only for a moment, before the man was led away to wherever he'd be staying.

There was something almost familiar about him, Gellert had to admit, but it was nothing to get his hopes up about. Brits were finicky sorts.

The next time he met the mysterious Scamander, it was in the middle of an ICW convention with his errant ex-auror interrupting once again. If she weren't so delightfully brash and blunt, he would've executed her before her demotion. But, alas, she was causing too many problems in his carefully boring scheme now. They were arrested and Gellert took possession of the fabled case with ease, rather curious as to what creatures the man was shouting about.

As it turned out, most of the creatures were dangerous enough to require several permits and permissions that the Scamander most definitely did not have. And several more that weren't even covered by permit laws, like the nundu eyeing Gellert's back and the oh so interesting obscurus sequestered away from everything else in a cold little section of the case.

That, after the little stunt he pulled at the conference, that he could use.

The interrogation room he'd picked was purposefully cold and impersonal, far from his office and any sort of listening devices. The bright lights did them no justice, the ex-auror looking very much like she hadn't slept in days and the Scamander like he'd been crying recently.

There was, he absently noted while grilling the man, a very slight discolouration on the left side of his face. Like the flesh had to be regrown several times. And an old burn peeking out of his collar when he moved. Gellert paused to bring the obscurus into the room with a flick of his wand.

Then it hit him.

He'd met the Scamanders, before the war, thanks to his great grandmother being a rather close family friend. Grindelwald mentally rubbed his temples. Which one was this, again?

He'd met them both when they were children and had no interest in playing babysitter when he could've been talking with Albus. The older one was respected in England for surviving the Great War by sheer dumb luck, and the younger....

When the man leant forward, meeting his eyes quite forcefully, Gellert could have groaned.

The younger one had always gotten himself into trouble somehow - first with the gnomes in his grandmother's garden, then with dragons in the war. And here he was, sure to ruin Grindelwald's little American dreams.

So he had them executed.

But that wouldn't be a fitting punishment for someone who'd helped drag Germany so low, not outside of the delightfully barbaric Azkaban Britain went on and on about. Not for someone who'd destroyed his own camp with an Ironbelly and lived.

"I'll take care of Mr. Scamander." The President would thank him, in the end.

His former auror was escorted out first and the Scamander was distraught in the chair he was now bound to, eyes darting everywhere but himself.

"Mr. Scamander." Gellert said.

The brat still wouldn't meet his eyes.

"They've done nothing wrong, I swear." He rushed out with a near sob, the emotion off-putting and childish. Grindelwald exhaled slowly.

"Mr. Scamander," he repeated, leaning over the desk to force the younger man to look him in the eyes, "there is a way to save them, you know."

The change in demeanour was instant. His back straightened, fingers gripping the arms of the chair with a vengeance.

"Save them?"

Instead of answering him with his voice, Gellert nodded, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Yes, that would do rather well.

"How?" The Scamander's next question was hoarse and quiet. Resigned.

Perfect.

"Obey." Grindelwald said simply. He leant back, crossing his legs and templing his fingers together over his lap. The action wasn't missed, the younger's eyes darting from the appendages to his face with a questioning glance. Gellert smiled.

It was something he learnt from Albus, smile softly and imply action rather than stating his intentions outright. That had gotten him far but the Director's face was not made for smiling, the expression wrong and off putting in a way he enjoyed. The Scamander ducked his head.

"Mrs.... Mrs. Goldstein too." He said.

"You ask for quite a lot, Mr. Scamander." If Gellert hadn't known some of his history, he would've pitied the meek man before him. He spent a moment of silence winding the man's nerves up before inclining his head. A wave of his hand sent a neatly scribbled note to the auror tasked with the job, as well as releasing the binds.

He leant forward.

"Do you even have a permit for half those creatures, Mr. Scamander? Just bringing them here is a large enough breach of security, considering you're breaking several laws." Gellert said, satisfied, watching his shoulders hunch and the younger open his mouth to say something before letting it close with an audible click.

"No, sir." The Scamander rubbed at his wrist, pushing the sleeve up just enough to catch the hint of another silvery scar.

"Come here."

He came.

Hesitantly, however, the tremor in his hands belaying the nervousness. And avoided his eyes the entire time, leaning against the metal desk in the space Gellert had generously provided between his legs. He clicked his tongue, not missing the Scamander's flinch at the sound.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Mr. Scamander." He murmured, nudging the younger with a knee until he sank into the floor. A rather nice sight, the flush spreading across the younger's face almost the same colour as his hair. Grindelwald reached forward, ignoring the flinch, and ran a hand through the curls, travelling down the side of his features until his chin fit firmly in his grasp. The eye contact was brief and looked uncomfortable for Scamander, but he was pleased enough.

Slowly, without the need for more coaxing, warm hands came to rest on the tops of his thighs. They were calloused, Gellert could feel them even through the fabric of his trousers, and thin, riddled with scars almost the same shade as his skin.

"Is this," he stopped, licked his lips, and glanced upward once more, "is this the only way?"

He smiled again, dropping a hand to unbutton himself while speaking.

"You have several options, Mr. Scamander. One, you could continue and free yourself and your little friends with little to no consequences until you break another law. Or two, you can walk out, but the aurors will take you immediately into custody and to your death."

Gellert paused, his zipper the only sound in the room until the younger shifts.

"Any other options?" Came the wry question, the expression cut off when Grindelwald's fingers resumed their position in his hair.

"I could see to your execution myself, if you'd like Mr. Scamander. Your choice." He said. Another flinch. Then, a mumbled ' _newt, call me newt_ '.

So that was the brat's name.

"I'm waiting, Newt." Said brat inhaled sharply, fingers tightening before smoothing the fabric out in a way that seemed more habit than intentional, before shuffling closer and mouthing him through his underclothes.

Gellert wasn't fond of this body, he had to admit, too broad at the shoulders and uncomfortably long in the legs, and the magical preference towards the Light felt like an uncomfortable itch he couldn't get rid of.

But it would be a fun memory to expose his little guest to when he got home. To hold him down until he was drowning in the pensieve, struggling for breath even after the memory ended.

Newt's breath was hot through the wet fabric and there were freckles on the tips of his ears, gracing scarred knuckles and disappearing down the back of his neck. Gellert moved his hand to cover the flushed skin, encouraging the younger to move closer and mussing the already rumpled collar of his coat.

The Scamander hesitated, eyes flicking up before focusing once more on his task, hands working the small buttons longer than strictly necessary. This close and actually paying attention, Grindelwald could tell his eyes were a sort of blue, perhaps a blue-green, but he doesn't find himself caring about colours a moment later when there was a mouth around the head and slim fingers wrapped around the base.

"There's a good boy." He said, keeping his voice low. There was obvious experience in those lips, in the way his tongue moved. Gellert hummed, leaning back and trying not to choke the younger by thrusting up so suddenly.

That came later.

Newt was a pretty sight with pre-come and saliva dripping down his chin, and he was determined to appreciate it while it lasted, the panting breaths hitting his skin in a delightful way after he'd yanked the boy back with a hand in the wiry curls.

"Soon," Gellert said easily, brushing away the gathering tears and letting him look away, "you've almost finished."

When he went down next, nose almost brushing the base with a soft, unintended noise, Grindelwald kept him there. The few seconds between realisation and the panic are delectable. Newt choked, throat closing tightly around the intrusion, and tried to get away with about as much tact as the beasts he favoured. He hushed the Scamander, letting him pull back enough to gulp down mouthfuls of air but not enough to escape, before his hand guided him down once more.

The noises were the best part, wet, desperate sounds that might have been sickening to someone who wasn't Grindelwald. Being himself, however, Gellert only stopped when he was close enough to release.

"Hands, Newt." He reminded the shaking Scamander, a polished shoe nudging his leg until the boy actually moved.

He made a prettier picture with streaks of come decorating his cheeks, trembling on the floor with glassy eyes even after Grindelwald zipped himself back in and vanished the wrinkles in his clothes with a brush of his hand.

Gellert left him like that, ordering the auror outside the door to take Newt back to the cell with the muggle. After all, he had no intentions of actually keeping his promises to the boy.

Later, after everything had gone to hell and back, Grindelwald shouldn't have been surprised when the younger Scamander marched up to him, lightning marks already flowering down his exposed forearms and up his neck, and firmly socked him in the jaw. It barely hurt, not nearly as bad as the damage the Obscurus did, but he supposed the intent behind it was clear.

Gellert smiled.


End file.
